


point of view & vision

by synthetica



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, Porn with Feelings, Roleplay, but... doctor kink, can you tell i'm a huge fucking dumb baby, i'd say 'doctor kink' but i feel like that's implied, practice & theory verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 06:11:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14764131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synthetica/pseuds/synthetica
Summary: Time and time again, no matter how stupid Jaehyun finds it, no matter how ridiculous he feels, he’s always played Doyoung’s games. He can’t help himself.





	point of view & vision

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to Practice & Theory, so you might want to read that one first.

Doyoung’s new office starts to feel like his again when they move the fish tank back in. It’s the moment everything seems to feel real for Jaehyun general, and it hits him over the head not long after Mark the Paid Assistant wheels it in, somewhere in the middle of watching fish flakes float down in the water. 

He closes food container with a snap, and the sound echoes in Jaehyun’s thoughts like he’s just woken up, like the room was blurred and he only noticed it because he finally blinked it back into focus. He puts the can of flakes back on the stand, searching for Doyoung only to find him still hunched over his desk answering emails. It makes him feel off-balance, dizzy with the instinct that he’s somehow been perched up on a chair by the tank for hours when he knows full well they walked in the door five minutes ago. 

He crouches down, blinking in the room through the soft light it reflects in the water until he’s satisfied with it. Nodding to himself, he pulls up to look out above it, taking a moment to appreciate that the overhead lights are no longer fluorescent. Out of the corner of his eye, Wendy darts around a piece of fake coral and he bends down again to watch her, oblivious to the sudden absence of Doyoung’s fingers against the keys until he hears him clear his throat. 

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asks, looking over the brim of his reading glasses. He never used to wear them, but Jaehyun likes them. It adds such an edge when he looks at him just like that, all incredulous and distracted. Doyoung puts them on as a favor to him, and Jaehyun returns the favor by not commenting on how obvious it was he’d actually needed them.

Jaehyun hops down off the chair with a start, and it feels more like he’s woken up for good this time. “Oh. Nothing.” 

Doyoung types a few more words before sliding his laptop gently across the desk. He folds his hands, hesitating just enough for Jaehyun to notice. “Well, do you like it?”

“Yeah, I do.” The longer Jaehyun looks around, the more it starts to feel real. It was bare when he first saw it that morning, and Jaehyun doesn’t remember liking it. Something about the L-shape mixed with the position of the window throwing off the atmosphere. He only stepped off the stage an hour ago, and the fading adrenaline makes his eight AM petulance seem like a dream. It doesn’t feel important now.

It’s all very Doyoung, now that he’s really thinking about it. They’d shelled out for dark paneling and a series of matching atmosphere lamps in the construction of the place, but the record player and miniature waterfall in the corner had been out of Doyoung’s pocket. Overall, it strikes him as equal parts professional and pretentious. As far as offices go, it’s rather fitting.

“I was worried you’d hate it, considering you weren’t here to give your input.” It’s cute when Doyoung tries to make fun of him. Maybe it shouldn’t be, but it is.

Jaehyun shakes his head. “I would have just complained about it. I’m glad I was busy.” 

More than anything, Doyoung looks like he owns the place, and that’s all that matters. He looks painted into it like fine art, cast in matching severe lines and warm shadows. It’s his, all right, and not only because Jaehyun’s caught him on a rare suit day. If he simply had to miss Jaehyun’s show for a meeting with the practice’s legal advisors, at least Jaehyun’s rewarded for the trouble. It’s dark blue, and Jaehyun remembers finding it in his closet a few months back and wanting Doyoung to wear it for him so badly it was all he could think about for a week straight. 

(In the back of his mind, Jaehyun figured it had to be for something like that. Bringing it up felt like inviting bad karma. So he pretended he didn’t see it.)

Now that his fantasy has come to life, it’s like no matter how long he looks at it, he can’t process everything the way he wants. It curves into him just right, tailored professionally, no doubt, dipping into his hipbones at an angle that accentuates the impossible length of his body. Doyoung greeted him at the door, but he’s only just now lucid enough to really see him as he is. The distance makes him frustrated, and Jaehyun’s crossing the room before he knows it, sliding up to Doyoung’s desk like he belongs there, too.

“You seem distracted,” Doyoung frowns, reaching for Jaehyun’s waist. He leans in to the touch, the picture of cufflink against flannel making him acutely aware of how underdressed he is in comparison. Doyoung appraises him with a lazy sort of nonchalance, and Jaehyun stirs. Professionalism and pretention, indeed. “You’re probably exhausted. We can get going now that the tank’s set up. I can do this work tomorrow.”

“No,” Jaehyun replies, a touch too eager for his own ears. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s thinking about what Doyoung would look like sprawled out over the desk just yet, or if that’s the main reason he’s been zoning in and out at all. It’s a reason, he decides after a split second, but a relatively new one in the grand scheme of the night. “We can stay. It’s really nice, hyung, honest. I still can’t believe that it’s, you know… yours.” 

Doyoung meets his eyes. They both understand the implication loud and clear. 

For all the stress and chaos of the past few months, it feels like a lifetime ago that Doyoung sent in his voluntary resignation for his last practice. Due to the complicated nature of the situation, they let him go quietly, but the fear kept Jaehyun up for days, crushed by the very real possibility of Doyoung losing his career over him in ways he never considered while arguing his case for them. 

Jaehyun knew it would happen, of course. He had warned himself, talked himself through the motions. Logically, he was well aware that the reality of the situation would hit him late in the game, and most likely all at once. That didn’t make it any easier to have to sit back and watch as Doyoung got put through the wringer, nor did it gift him with spontaneous public speaking skills when he had to testify in front of Taeil on Doyoung’s behalf. 

The decision was quicker than Jaehyun could have hoped for, but it was a sorry consolation prize considering the month long sabbatical Doyoung took at his older brother’s house afterwards. That was the hardest part. Letting him go was easy because it was necessary, but there wasn’t a night he didn’t spend terrified he wouldn’t come back.

But he did. And despite it all, Doyoung is still his.

Their only stroke of luck, aside from the not insignificant part where all Doyoung really got was a slap on the wrist, was Dr. Nakamoto’s apparently long-standing plan to open his own office. He insisted Doyoung’s situation only expedited an existing timeline, but Jaehyun doesn’t know him well enough to decide whether or not he believes him. He should know Doyoung well enough to gauge his thoughts, but even now, he seems equally torn on it. The only caveat is that he and Yuta share administrative duties, which is a minor inconvenience in a situation that’s left them better off than Jaehyun knows how to handle.

Mostly, Jaehyun feels like he doesn’t handle it, so he does the only thing he knows. He just stays. Lucky for him, it feels like the easiest thing in the world to do.

“I really don’t want to do this again for a while,” Doyoung sighs after a beat of silence, exaggerated and long. “It’s a pain. The movers almost broke my glass bookcase.”

Jaehyun can’t pinpoint the moment he developed a Doyoung-to-human translator, but it whirs at full speed the second the words leave his mouth. It’s a relief to be here.

He fits so well inside these walls it hurts. It reminds him so sharply of what Doyoung almost lost. Even if it’s undeniably for the best, it doesn’t take away just how close they came to losing it all.

“I think I might have actually died if I saw you for the first time here,” Jaehyun realizes it at the same time he decides to say it, feeling heat creep up his cheeks as Doyoung meets his eyes. “I can’t imagine doing the things we did there in this place. I guess I’m lucky I’ll never know.”

Doyoung crosses his legs and leans on the desk with his elbows, quirking an eyebrow. Jaehyun used to think all the nonsense about observing the little things in another person was just sappy drivel, but with Doyoung, he gets it. There’s a lot to admire in him, at least as far as Jaehyun’s concerned. He particularly likes the twitchy way he gets absorbed in a new idea. “Why not try and imagine it?” 

Jaehyun’s chest lurches, though it might just be the last of the stage adrenaline fading into something else. “What do you mean?” 

“Try walking in here again.”

Jaehyun searches his face, but the smirk Doyoung’s hiding behind his hand could mean almost anything. “Why would I do that?”

“I need you to go see if Mark’s still here, and if he is, please tell him to sleep.” Doyoung straightens a stack of papers with a cough, a glint in his eye. “He overworks himself, that kid.”

Jaehyun would remind him that Mark’s barely younger than him, but that’s beside the point. He blinks just in time to see Doyoung toss the office keys his way, gesturing to the door without looking up. “Lock up, while you’re at it.”

The hallways of the one-story office are dark and unnervingly quiet, but as it turns out, Mark is still there, though he’s busy locking up his own office when Jaehyun finds him, stifling a yawn. Jaehyun walks with him out to the main airlock, and thanks him again for helping with the tank, to which he beams and proclaims that he’s happy to help. Jaehyun wonders, not for the first time, just how much Yuta has to pay someone so wonderful to endure what he puts him through.

He likes Mark, he really does, but he’s too observant at the best of times. He eyes the keys in Jaehyun’s hand with a raised eyebrow. “Aren’t you two leaving soon? It’s late enough.” 

“Ah…” Jaehyun shrugs, holding open the door with his foot and adjusting the lock. The realization he might have something to cover up makes a shiver run up his spine, but with Mark, it might just be useless. He invited him out to drinks last month only to find out Mark knew about him and Doyoung, and had known for a while. It was almost an insult to try. “We won’t be too much longer. It’s a safety precaution.”

“Right,” Mark agrees, clearly not buying it. He doesn’t seem to care, though. “Well. Tell him I’ll have the complete photocopy order on Monday.” 

Mark closes up behind him, and Jaehyun waits until he’s pulled out of the parking lot before he lets himself lean back against the door, exhaling. 

Try walking in here again.

Jaehyun bites down on his lip, worrying it between his teeth. It’s the exact sort of nonsense Doyoung would expect him to take literally, and as much as he wants to resent how much it sounds like just another one of his exercises, he’s grown to associate him with that mix of ridiculous and practical intimately. Doyoung wouldn’t like the insinuation that he plays games with Jaehyun, but he does. 

Normally, Jaehyun’s pretty sure Doyoung doesn’t realize it—it’s just second nature. This time, though, something tells him Doyoung knows exactly what he’s doing. Time and time again, no matter how stupid Jaehyun finds it, no matter how ridiculous he feels, he’s always played Doyoung’s games. He can’t help himself.

Closing his eyes, Jaehyun counts to three, and when he finishes, he looks up into the entryway with all the focus he can gather. Alright. He can play along.

The new building still isn’t too familiar to him, and he’s surprised to find it’s not too difficult to imagine he’s walking into something he’s never seen, or that he has no idea what these walls could possibly hold. He squares his shoulders before deciding it’s not authentic, and lets them fall.

By the time he’s back to Doyoung’s door, he’s found a comfortable middle between holding himself like he knows what he’s doing and holding himself like when they first met. He knows his limits.

Jaehyun quiets all the thoughts he can in the time it takes for him to knock on the door, and shoves a few more down by force as he hears Doyoung’s feet across the floor, slow to start. 

Every cell of his body feels ridiculous, but the sight of Doyoung’s face, a little bewildered and a lot of beautiful, only strengthens his resolve. He expects the opposite, but he won’t complain, especially not when his words push his body forward so effortlessly.

“Dr. Kim?” Jaehyun asks, in a voice smaller and lower than his own. 

Doyoung just stares at him, lips parted, and Jaehyun can see the gears behind his eyes. He loves it, and from that second Jaehyun knows beyond a shadow of a doubt he won’t be able to play this like they never met. There was a point of no return with him, and he flew past it ages ago, around when he realized all the nights he spent fantasizing about Doyoung were nothing compared to reality. 

It’s one thing to imagine the intricacies of another person, filling in the sighs and moans from cutout collections of all the people he’s heard make them before and all the reflections of it he’s seen. The picture it creates satisfies only because it fulfills a desire that’s never meant to be real. It’s nothing more than a primal urge for the image of a person, a shadow of what cannot be known. It’s better if the details are lacking—no matter how badly the reality of it is desired, anything too close to truth would ruin the fantasy. At least, that’s what he’s pretty sure Doyoung would say about Jaehyun’s somewhat shameful past masturbatory habits. 

In fantasy, there’s no way to know the things that Jaehyun knows now. He knows that Doyoung doesn’t moan as much as he does pant through his teeth, shaky and pained from the back of his throat. Doyoung’s quieter than most, in fact, but Jaehyun knows now that it’s only because that’s the way he’s always had to practice at it. He holds back without realizing it out of habit, at least until Jaehyun learned to talk him through it, and then learned how to undo his walls without any words at all. 

There was no way of knowing about the scar underneath his left shoulder blade from playing hockey in middle school, or that he was never any good at it in the first place. Jaehyun never could have guessed at the way Doyoung reacts when he lets Jaehyun crawl inside, how all the tension in him slips away into a need that’s so open and vulnerable it looks startlingly close to pain.

Jaehyun knows too much, like Doyoung’s favorite position to read in, contorted, gangly, and enjoyable to no one else. He can’t go back to pure fantasy when he’s seen Doyoung exhausted, undone, unsexy, and unpretentious. Fantasy Doyoung never sang to him when he was sick with the flu, he never showed him the ridiculous way he organizes his socks like it’s a ritual. Looking now at the realization settling into Doyoung’s eyes, it’s too bright to ignore.

“Ah,” Doyoung says, drawing the noise out lower and lower in his voice. “You must be Jung Yunoh.”

A Jaehyun that’d never met him before could never in a million years do what he’s about to, though, so it’s for the best.

In the original script, Jaehyun corrected his name. He’s sure he did. This time, he just nods, and extends a hand.

This Jaehyun knows the impossible way his given name rolls off Doyoung’s tongue, the ‘n’ falling into the ‘oh’ like a sigh and always reserved for their most intimate moments, whether it be emotional or physical. It’s a signal, and he hopes Doyoung understands why he wants to hear it.

It doesn’t escape him that Doyoung doesn’t bother correcting his own name, either, not even when Jaehyun repeats it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Kim.”

It sends a shiver up his spine to see Doyoung stir at that, the corners of his lips quirking up before he dampens it down into a mask of professionalism. Of course Doyoung is good at this. Why wouldn’t he be? “Likewise.”

With the door closed behind them, this space feels better than new. The quiet and the isolation makes it like stepping into their own universe, one that Jaehyun is still so excited to be in it makes his toes curl. The desire to touch Doyoung is overwhelming, but he spent months cradling that feeling to his chest like a wound. A few minutes to show him he can play the game are nothing. “Thank you for taking me in. I know I’m not the usual patient.”

Jaehyun’s voice shakes, and he can tell Doyoung notices by the way his brow softens, his next words coming out like a question even as he looks him up and down. “Of course. But it begs the question… what brings someone like you to me?”

It’s a loaded question, and it brings him back to reality. Doyoung’s asked him that before. He’s asked it enough to get every answer Jaehyun knows, in fact, and the list isn’t short. Maybe it’s the vulnerable timing of it all. Jaehyun thinks he would have sold his soul just for someone to understand the parts of himself he couldn’t express. Maybe he just saw Doyoung’s professional status and maturity as a challenge he intended to win. Most likely, it’s a combination of those things and Doyoung himself. All the things he’s grown to love about him were there from the start. From day one until now, he’s remained the strangest, most sincere person Jaehyun’s ever met. He never stood a chance.

Jaehyun could answer with any of those things, but it would break the mood, because this isn’t an exploration of that side of them, and it’s not what Doyoung is looking for, anyway. Jaehyun isn’t sure yet what he is, but he figures the honest answer he never provided the first time around isn’t a bad start. “I wanted to see you. No one else interested me the way you did.”

Doyoung scans him again as he takes a step forward, closing the space between them until it’s nothing more than a few feet. Jaehyun wants to tear that suit off of him, but not before he tears the smirk off his face first. “Then you must know what I provide.”

Nothing highlights just how much Doyoung struggled when Jaehyun was a patient like actually being with him does. To call him ‘smooth’ would be an exaggeration, but there’s a natural easiness to him that Jaehyun never quite saw before. It makes sense now why Doyoung considers himself a chameleon of sorts, capable of snapping into role after role with rapid precision. He’s too familiar to pull Jaehyun out of the moment entirely. Doyoung’s his, and Jaehyun couldn’t forget that for the world. It’s still really fucking unfair how easy he makes it.

Jaehyun’s never been good at that sort of thing. He can try to play along all he wants, but he can never provide much beyond his authentic reactions. That never used to be enough, but that was before Doyoung, and the old status quo no longer applies. Every time his confidence bottoms out, there’s always scrap or two left for Doyoung to coax from him. He swallows. “I do.”

The room feels impossibly quiet after his words fade, Jaehyun’s thoughts whirling to a stop as Doyoung reaches out to take Jaehyun’s chin between his fingers. 

Jaehyun expects the spell to break when he staggers forward, and again when he wraps his fingers around Doyoung’s wrist, but the air between them is heavier by the second. Doyoung doesn’t wait long enough to give it a chance to fall. “Then tell me. What do you want?”

As it turns out, it crashes not a second later, right when Doyoung brushes his thumb over his lips. Jaehyun’s done with being coy. “I want you to fuck me on your desk, Dr. Kim.”

That gets Doyoung’s attention.

It’s a long-time fantasy, and Jaehyun feels his face burn, but he holds his ground despite the tremor in his hands. Doyoung’s eyes widen right as Jaehyun closes his own, suddenly terrified of his reaction. 

The not knowing turns out to be worse within seconds, but Jaehyun’s always been easy to crack. In the end, Jaehyun can only watch as Doyoung narrows his eyes, cataloguing the way his expression cracks into fondness in visceral detail. He’s so grateful he knows Doyoung well enough to see it. He’s so lucky he knows him well enough to understand what it means.

For a second, it looks like Doyoung might contest it with some quip about taking it slow, if not out of a desire for authenticity, then at least to draw it out. Jaehyun can tell he wants to, but the quickness of his breath betrays him, impatience clear in the sweat pooling on Doyoung’s forehead.

“Good,” Doyoung breathes. “Being able to advocate for your desires is the first step.”

“It’s not too fast?” Jaehyun doesn’t know if he’s asking because he’s confident, or because he’s looking for confirmation. He can only stretch himself so far.

He shakes his head. “I think it’s brilliant.”

Doyoung moves all at once, kissing Jaehyun hard and gripping the back of his neck, fingers in his hair. There’s no hesitation, and Jaehyun breathes a sigh of relief to let Doyoung in closer, his eagerness releasing the last of whatever resistance is left in Jaehyun’s body. He gropes at Doyoung’s chest until he finds his tie, fingers sliding over the silk as careful as he can force himself to be. It doesn’t come undone easy, but Doyoung lets him do it alone, free hand moving underneath Jaehyun’s shirt, teasing up his sides.

In his mind, he takes his time sliding it off his neck, but impatience gets the better of him in reality, tossing it to the desk with a frustrated sigh that Doyoung licks from the back of his teeth. He barely remembers to judge the distance between the collar and his newly exposed skin, and doesn’t remember at all to care before he breaks the kiss in favor of pressing his lips to Doyoung’s neck. Doyoung arches back, swallowing a whine from the back of his throat. Jaehyun coaxes it out proper, focusing on teasing the skin with his teeth past the ever-distracting creep of Doyoung’s fingers higher and higher on his ribcage, his chest.

Jaehyun knows he’s testing his luck, but the moan Doyoung makes when Jaehyun runs his tongue over the part he’s bitten is so good he does it twice before pulling back, too fast for Doyoung to catch up. The flush on Doyoung’s cheeks is familiar, and Jaehyun almost asks how careful he should be with the suit before his better judgment kicks in, moving to undo the buttons. He trusts Doyoung to speak up, and he’s worked too hard on the mood to ruin it now. The way he digs his nails into Jaehyun’s scalp is enough of an answer to breeze through them all, anticipation rushing his head. “You look incredible, but this needs to be off.”

Doyoung responds by working the flannel off Jaehyun’s own shoulders with a hum. It’s his favorite, but that doesn’t stop Jaehyun from letting it fall to the floor behind him. He finds Doyoung’s eyes and holds them there, staring him down as he pulls his own shirt off after. Only then does Doyoung move to his own, careful but quick in pulling off the jacket, folding it over the back of his chair along with his tie. 

Jaehyun’s already set to work on his belt before he gets his undershirt off, and he considers himself lucky that Doyoung finishes the job before catching him, folding both of Jaehyun’s wrists together with one hand and dragging his belt out through the last of the loops with the other. “You’re rushing.”

“Then you should fix that,” Jaehyun grits his teeth. He knows he sounds like a brat, but he can’t quite manage to care. “Isn’t that your job?”

“You did your research.” Doyoung rolls his eyes, and Jaehyun’s pretty sure it’s genuine, but it doesn’t bother him.

“I like to be prepared.” Jaehyun frowns, because if Doyoung’s trying to mock him by pushing Jaehyun’s hips against his, he’s just as hard as Jaehyun is. It’s difficult to put the emotion behind it. Even though he knows the way Doyoung’s palming his erection through his jeans is calculated for exactly that reason, it’s effective. Considering he’s been practically been hard since he walked back in the room, he’s lucky his enthusiasm is reciprocated, and that alone makes him sigh into it, strained.

Jaehyun arches his hips, but instead of taking the hint to pull off his jeans, Doyoung kisses him once before guiding him back up against the desk. Jaehyun follows the motion, stumbling a bit even with Doyoung’s hips pressing him down onto the surface, pinning him there when his feet slip up from the floor. Apparently satisfied with Jaehyun’s compliance, Doyoung responds to the rock of Jaehyun’s hips with a start, pulling back and leaning down to undo the button in one fluid motion.

The urge to simply lift his hips and let Doyoung slide them off is tempting, but he manages to hold his ground, staring at him with raised eyebrows until he sighs and steps back to undo his own. He’s hastier with the bottom half, tossing his slacks and briefs on the chair without any of the care from earlier before his hands are back on Jaehyun’s hips, equally rough in pulling off the last of his own clothing.

Jaehyun blinks him in before his body takes over, winding his arms around him to cling at his shoulder blades and pull him down. The hitch of Doyoung’s breath at skin against skin sparks something brave, and he’s speaking before he even gets a chance to think it over, before he can tell himself he shouldn’t. “Are you this eager with every patient, doctor?”

“No,” Doyoung whispers against his neck. It’s a question he’s asked before, too, but unlike Doyoung, he thinks he’s always known the answer. “There’s something about you. I can’t help it.”

It’s an old admission, one that implicates Doyoung in ways it took him months past the point of no return to admit out loud. Jaehyun’s chest flutters at it like it’s new, and he pulls him in tighter, not bothering to try and conceal a moan at Doyoung’s erection rutting up against his.

Something about the way Doyoung trails his lips down from his neck to tease one of his nipples between his teeth makes him feel distinctly ridiculous again, and he lets out a laugh despite how hard he tries to keep it down, breathy and halting. “Really? You’re not in the habit of screwing every new client on the intake meeting?”

Jaehyun’s certain now Doyoung didn’t expect him to run with this at all. It’s written all over his face when he cracks his own smile at that, shaking his head and wrapping his fingers around his dick. “Nope. And if you don’t behave, you won’t be the first.”

That’s…

That’s really not fair, Jaehyun thinks. 

He distinctly dislikes the satisfied look on Doyoung’s face when he snaps his mouth shut anyway. He makes sure the scowl stays to speak for him.

It’s only when Doyoung starts to work up and down his shaft that Jaehyun realizes it was only Doyoung’s way of admitting defeat. By that time, he’s mostly given up on caring. He digs his nails in to the skin of Doyoung’s back, and wonders vaguely if it’s breaking character to do when he knows he likes that, a little rough, a little careless. 

“Can you reach into that drawer on the left?” Doyoung asks, gesturing with a nod. It’s a stretch, but Jaehyun manages to pull it open without losing contact, fumbling until he finds the lube. Nothing but normal desk fare, here.

Jaehyun hands it over and watches as Doyoung rubs it between his fingers, as focused and clinical as Jaehyun’s ever seen him. Doyoung barely passes his eyes over him before he reaches down, tracing his hole once before burying his first finger to the knuckle, methodical and slow. 

There’s nothing wrong with slow. Doyoung can make slow amazing, and there’s some nights where Jaehyun wants nothing more than to feel every single inch of Doyoung inside him, to burn with it. They’ve had hotter sex where Doyoung’s taken five minutes to sink into him than Jaehyun’s had with anyone else in any position. But now, with Doyoung’s suit on the chair and Jaehyun’s back slick with sweat up against his beautiful, thousand-plus-dollar desk, he thinks he’ll go insane if they play that game. 

The second finger is somehow even more careful going in, and Jaehyun can feel Doyoung’s eyes on him as he swallows a whine, impatient with the heat pooling in his stomach. There’s not near enough pressure, even when he starts to work them in deeper, Jaehyun’s breath hitching. “Please…”

He knows it’s not good enough the second it leaves its mouth, but the soft hum Doyoung returns still makes Jaehyun want to punch him. Just a little. Of course he’s still playing along. Doyoung would turn this into a five-part play if he could, but Jaehyun’s not that patient. He never will be. Doyoung cocks his head to the side. “Please, what?”

Doyoung never used to know how to say no to him, but for better or worse, he’s figured it out. His game face isn’t perfect—Jaehyun would be worried if it was at this point—but he’s nailed that edge of impassivity he shows the rest of the world. Sometimes, Jaehyun wonders if that look would have made him give up. Would Jaehyun have pushed those boundaries if Doyoung threw up that wall? Would he have wanted this if Doyoung had him play along like everyone else, given him the illusion of control without ever once giving up his power? 

Doyoung pushes his fingers in hard and deep, and Jaehyun loses his train of thought. “I said would you please just…”

Whatever he has to say is cut off by Doyoung slamming his free hand against Jaehyun’s wrist, pinning him to the desk with more force than he was prepared for. He feels a new wave of blood rush to his dick and oh, the answer is still no. A show of force wouldn’t have changed anything. 

He pushes his hips up against Doyoung’s, but he only ruts down twice as hard, fingers still impossibly tight inside of him. His words come breathy in Jaehyun’s ears, Doyoung’s teeth against his neck. “You have to tell me what you want, Yunoh. I can’t just guess. You have to understand.” 

Oh, God, he’s so glad he let Doyoung use his real name. Not that it quells his frustration any. It takes him far too long to gather his words, gritting his teeth against the slow thrusts of Doyoung’s hand, a third finger inside now. He inhales, shaky, and follows where he can.

“Please, Dr. Kim,” Jaehyun sounds as much of a mess as he feels, but he’s impressed with the sweetness he paints into it. He rides the surge of confidence it gives him, twisting his tone until it stings. “I can take what you can give me.”

Jaehyun will swear he’s never going to understand how he’s doing this, not in the afterglow, not weeks from now, not ever. He’s sure of that. He’ll blame adrenaline and a capable leader, but deep down, he knows what’s bringing it out. 

He’d do anything to see the look that’s falling across Doyoung’s face, dark, hot, and just a little possessive. Jaehyun’s always had to work for it, but it feels especially well earned now, even with the loss of pressure at Doyoung sliding his fingers out of him. 

If Doyoung really wanted to stay in character, he’d ask if Jaehyun’s sure he really means it, if he knows what he wants for certain. Maybe he’d even delve into the technical specifics of bottoming, just to get a rise out of him. Doyoung is a lot of things, a horrible tease included, but he’s still human. His pupils are blown wild, hard enough that his dick twitches when Jaehyun shifts his hips, and he’s sworn up and down he’s as attracted to Jaehyun as he’s ever been to anyone. He has his limits, and if Jaehyun weren’t turned on beyond the point of reason, he’d rub it in Doyoung’s face that he found them.

Right now, though, all he wants is Doyoung inside of him. He doesn’t even care that Doyoung can’t bother to look defeated as he slicks more lube down his shaft. He’ll take what he can get, and the second he feels Doyoung start to press into him, it’s enough. More than enough.

Doyoung’s grip looses around his wrist, but he keeps his hold, other hand moving to Jaehyun’s hip for leverage as he sinks in deep, slow to start and then all at once. It slams into Jaehyun like a shock, and it’s the exact catharsis he needs. The cry of pain is involuntary, but somehow Jaehyun still has enough of his wits to swallow it into a moan, reaching up to grab Doyoung’s neck and pull him in closer, deeper. 

He’s so full he can hardly stand it, and just like he wanted, Doyoung doesn’t give him time to adjust to it before he’s moving, falling into a rhythm too good not to be practiced. Every thrust matches to a roll of his hips, just enough to sting but not enough to kill the pleasure. 

“Is this what you mean?” Doyoung asks, and Jaehyun loves the hitch in his voice, loves that he’s doing that to him. Doyoung’s so tightly wound, Jaehyun thought he was moving Earth itself the first time he fully unraveled. It’s different now, but still so sweet, still so intimate. He pushes into him again, harder, and Jaehyun feels himself becoming undone in the same way, wonders if it’s doing the same to Doyoung to watch. He knows it has to be something close. 

Jaehyun nods, burying his head in the crook of Doyoung’s neck and digging his nails into his shoulder blades. Doyoung’s body is burning above him, mixing with the heat inside him into something dizzying, but he wants to crawl inside of him. It’s an unbearable want, and it splits him open every time, like no matter how far Doyoung sinks into him over and over, no matter how tightly Jaehyun clings, he’ll never be close enough. 

(The first time Doyoung pointed it out, he wanted to hide in a cellar from the shame, but over time, it blended into the sweetness of everything else about being known. Jaehyun wants him close because he’s never felt like he can want anything else the way Doyoung allows him to, and he’s never wanted anything more. Once he understood that, it was easier to sink into it. There are perks to dating a therapist, after all.) 

It doesn’t take long, then. It’s almost embarrassing. Jaehyun’s well aware that his stamina in general is no match for how long Doyoung can go, but the worst part is how obvious it is that the foreplay alone riled him up past the point of no return. It’s not like he showed up here expecting to add ‘roleplay’ to the list of things Doyoung’s literally turned him on to, but he didn’t really expect to get plowed into the desk, either. Either way, it’s too good to ignore, the way he’s hitting the exact rhythm he knows from experience drives Jaehyun wild faster than any other.

Once he can hear Doyoung’s own moans, feel the breath in his ears. The knowledge of his pleasure alone is enough to send Jaehyun over the edge, a few sharp thrusts and he’s coming, dick twitching between his body and Doyoung’s as his orgasm hits him in waves, more intense than it’s been in months. Doyoung’s slower to finish, and Jaehyun can feel him whispering to him as he rocks against his body, raw. He understands some of it, and Jaehyun realizes with a hint of smugness that it’s then his façade finally drops, the sweet nothings blending together into a mesh of I love you’s and words too small to understand. 

Doyoung stays inside him for a good minute after he’s done, giving them both a chance to catch their breath. For his part, Jaehyun’s slow to let go after, and can feel a soreness creeping up his arms when he finally does, exhausted. It’s even longer before he can open his eyes, but when he does, Doyoung’s looking straight at him, waiting with a fondness written all over his face that Jaehyun still can’t wrap his head around. With a smile, Doyoung rakes a hand through Jaehyun’s hair. Somehow, he gathers the strength to lean into it. 

If Jaehyun were in anyone else’s skin, he’d be disgusted by how much time they’re able to spend just staring at each other. It’s objectively nauseating. Knowing this, he still loves it, but he eventually manages to peel his eyes away to scan the rest of the room. 

He didn’t think he’d ever get this lucky. Not in a million years. Not like this, in a world where Doyoung’s all right, where he didn’t lose his life over him. Not in a world where Doyoung not only kept his life, but got an office that fits just right, with all the parts together. Not a world where Jaehyun’s a part of that. Maybe it’d be a more romantic observation if he weren’t still naked, but considering the road he took to get here, it’s pretty fitting. He’ll take it.

“Yeah. It really does feel like yours.”

In lieu of a reply, Jaehyun just feels Doyoung’s hand slipping into his. It’s about the best assurance he could ever hope for.

**Author's Note:**

> It's me, your local fandom cryptid here to deposit a potentially underwhelming fic a year and a half late! I barely edited this. I just really wanted to publish it. Maybe I'll change that, maybe I won't! It's always a mystery here at ao3 dot com slash users slash synthetica.
> 
> But for real, I cannot thank you all enough. I've read every single comment on every single platform, every curiouscat message, every twitter notification, every tumblr ask, etc multiple times, and you have no idea what your feedback and appreciation means to me. I could have never anticipated the outpouring of love P&T received, and I'm so grateful for every single person who read and felt something for that fic. 
> 
> That being said, I totally get why most sequels suck now. This was a bitch to write, and that's an understatement. Hopefully I'll come back with something new and fresh for y'all. As always, you can find my contact info on my profile in the meantime.


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